


Monster

by o_rcrist



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o_rcrist/pseuds/o_rcrist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agron loses control, when he almost loses his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lesson in Submission

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't intend for this to turn into a multi-chapter fic, it kinda just happened since it's getting so big.

Nasir was quietly walking through the woods, Naevia and Saxa beside him. They’d gone out to scavenge what they could from the Romans abandoned camp at Vesuvius. The victory brought a smile to their faces, but they were still cautious. The others had found a few stray soldiers in the past few days, and they fought like rabid dogs when cornered. None had escaped once the rebels had seen them.

They took turns standing guard, as they gathered up all the tents that hadn’t been destroyed by the fireballs. They’d gathered all the weapons they could find on the first day, as they were what they desperately needed. He’d gone to Spartacus a few days after, telling their leader that in all of his brilliance, how could he overlook how useful the tents would be to them? They’d barely survived Vesuvius without them after all.

Spartacus had laughed, admitting he _had_ looked over them, and asked Nasir to gather as many as he could. He gotten Naevia and Saxa to help him, while Agron, Gannicus, and Crixus made more plans with Spartacus. He knew they were planning where they should travel next, as the shadow of Vesuvius was no longer safe for them.

They’d brought two of the Romans horses with them, and strapped the tents on their backs as they worked through the camp. They were at the far edge of the destroyed camp, working faster by unspoken consent. The woods opened up there, making them feel exposed and vulnerable.

Saxa was at the furthest edge of it, taking her turn standing guard, her daggers in hand. Nasir was strapping the last tent onto one of the horses, when she motioned for him to come over, holding her finger over her lips. He immediately drew his sword, and Naevia did likewise.

“ _There is someone over there, past the boulders_ ,” she whispered. He nodded his head, and quickly translated what she had said to Naevia. The three of them slowly crept forward, staying low, and hiding behind the trees when possible. As they approached, Nasir started to hear low voices, ones that he did not recognize. He tightened his grip on his sword, as they crouched down behind a boulder.

Seven soldiers were standing around a small campfire, there armor torn and bloodied. They were all glaring at each other.

“You have lost fucking mind,” one of the men growled, “Spartacus is protected by the gods. We should return to Rome, with our lives.”

Another man laughed cruelly, “You coward.”

The first man angrily replied, “Did you not see what he and his slaves did? They killed not one, but two _Praetors_ of Rome! Slaughtered all those who stood in their way! They escaped Vesuvius, flying down sheer rock! You think we will fare better?”

Nasir couldn’t help but smirk as he listened to the soldiers. It was long overdue that Rome realized they were more than just slaves. They were free, and would gladly face far worth than death than ever submit to the will of those who dared called themselves there masters again.

Another voice spoke up, “They will not expect us. Spartacus is the only one who holds them together. Without him, they are _nothing_. Mindless slaves, who know nothing of war and death.”

The first man angrily ran his hand through his short hair, “This is fucking _madness_.”

 The second man spoke again, “What do you suggest we do then? If we return to Rome, absent his fucking head, certain death awaits us.”

Nasir had heard enough, realizing the soldier’s intent. He slowly began to pull Naevia and Saxa backward with him, towards where they had left the horses. The soldiers were almost out of sight, when one of the horses let out a loud cry. The soldiers immediately turned, looking for the source. Naevia and Saxa were hidden from there sight by the trees, but Nasir was fully exposed to them.

Saxa took a fighting stance, ready to face the soldiers, but Nasir grabbed her, pulling her to where the horses were. Naevia wordlessly pulled herself onto one of them, but Saxa was glaring at him. “ _We can kill them_.”

“We can’t risk it! If we fall, they will make attempt on Spartacus’ life. They’ve only seen me. Take the horses and go!” He shoved Saxa to the other horse, and lifted her up onto it. “Go and warn the others! _Now_!” Nasir ordered, drawing his sword from his sheath.

They both hesitated, looking from the soldiers to him, but before they could voice any further argument, he slapped the horses, and they took off towards the temple, leaving a trail of dust behind them.

The soldiers were closer now, there swords drawn, the cold steel glinting in the sunlight. He hid behind a tree, and when the first soldier ran past him, he swung his sword out, slitting the man’s neck.

 A second soldier came at him, swinging his sword down towards his hand. Memories from the woods flooded him for a moment, recognizing the move that soldier had used to leave him defenseless. He quickly dodged it by jumping backwards, and the soldier threw himself off balance with the effort he put into the failed blow. Nasir took advantage of it, slicing his sword up. It did little damage to the man’s chest, as his light armor protected him, but left a deep gash through the man’s face and throat, and the soldier dropped to the ground.

The third and fourth soldier circled him, trying to press him against the boulders. He hissed angrily, never taking his eyes off of them, while listening for any sound that might suggest the three were trying to take him by surprise. A lesson he’d learned from Agron, as the man had a habit of taking him by surprise, in more ways than one.

A twig snapped behind him, and he turned, thrusting his sword through the chest of the soldier who’d been attempting to sneak up from behind. He quickly pulled his sword back out, turning back to face the four remaining soldiers. He grinned as he took in the shock on the men’s faces.

“How mindless am I now, _Roman,_ ” he taunted, taking great pleasure as their faces turned from shock to anger and realization. Fuck if he cared that they knew he knew of their plan. Nothing was better than putting a shit eating Roman into his proper place. “You will all join the rest of the men we killed in the Underworld, where you belong.”

One of the soldiers roared in anger, charging at him. Nasir ducked underneath his sword, bringing his down on the back of the man’s legs, severing the muscles. The Roman cursed as he fell, his legs no longer able to bear his weight. He left the man cursing on the ground, knowing he had incapacitated him for the time being. 

His attention would be better served to the three remaining soldiers before him. Among them was the group’s apparent leader, the one who had suggested they kill Spartacus. Nasir was ready to taunt them again, and perhaps goad another into attacking him without thinking. The comment was ready on his lips, when something hit him in the back, hard. He hissed again, instinctively turning.

He barely registered the soldier on the ground, grinning viciously at him, and the large rock he had in his hand, before he was tackled from behind, and pinned to the forest floor. He growled, trying to break free of the soldiers on top of him. His sword was wrested away from him, and he bit down on a hand that came to near him, drawing blood.

He was roughly pulled up by three sets of hands and he kicked out, trying to break loose from the hold the soldiers had on him. One stuck him hard across the face, and his mouth filled with blood. One of the men loosened his hold on him, and he doubled his efforts, trying to escape. The man who had loosened his grip went to the soldier he’d hamstringed, and pulled the man onto his shoulders. Nasir kicked out again, hissing angrily. He was suddenly struck at the base of his skull, and darkness swallowed him.

~~*~~

 Nasir was just coming to when he was shoved down and the soldiers roughly pinned his hands above him, feeling the bite of rope as it was tied around his wrists, preventing him from getting at the small dagger hidden in his breeches. He tugged at the ropes, but it was useless. The rope was bound tightly, cutting into his wrists whenever he moved.

One of the solders kneeled down, roughly grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at the man, “Fucking slave. You’ll learn your place by the time we’re finished with you.”

Nasir spat the blood into the soldiers face in response. The soldier jumped up, cursing and wiping Nasir’s blood from his face. “You fucking shit,” and he struck Nasir across the face again.

The man walked over to the small campfire where two of the soldiers stood, while the third was sitting, blood pouring from his wound.  Nasir allowed himself a pleased smile for a moment, hoping the man would die from blood loss soon. He tugged uselessly at the ropes around his wrists again, and groaned. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. He tried scraping the rope against the rough bark of the tree, trying to put even the smallest cut into the rope, but it did nothing.

He banged his head against the tree in frustration. “Think,” he told himself. His eyes darted around the camp, looking for anything that might aid him in escape. His eyes fell to the rocks near his feet. Most were quite small, but a few were large enough, where if he kicked them off into the woods, they might just create a noise loud enough to draw the soldiers off for a moment. Keeping an eye on the men, he slowly began to nudge one closer to him. One of the soldiers glanced up and him, and he boldly met the man’s gaze, glaring back at him.

“This one is bold. Perhaps a lesson is in order, before we send him to the afterlife,” he suggested to his comrades.

“I need no lesson in submission,” Nasir shot back, “Spartacus will gladly teach you one though.”

“Ignore the fuck for now,” the leader ordered, turning away from him. Nasir hissed, and the man angrily turned back to him, “Jupiter’s cock, put a fucking gag on him!”

One of the soldiers nodded, ripping a strip of cloth from his cloak. He knelt down, and Nasir glared at him, snapping his teeth when the soldiers hand came to close. He was struck across the face again for his defiance, and the cloth was quickly placed between his teeth and tied behind his head, effectively gagging him.

The solider walked away, and he threw his head back, hitting it against the tree in frustration. _Fuck_. He subconsciously tugged at the ropes again, ignoring its painful bite. The only thing he _was_ grateful for at the moment was that Naevia and Saxa had escaped unnoticed. It would be all too easy for the Rebels to take the soldiers by surprise.

Agron would kill them all.


	2. Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saxa and Naevia deliver news of the soldiers plan.

Agron looked up at the sudden noise in the camp. The others were shouting and jumping out of the way as two horses thundered towards where he and the others stood. He didn’t know what or why, but he knew something was wrong. He left the shade of the large tent, now able to make out Naevia and Saxa upon them. Where was Nasir?

“Agron,” Naevia cried out. They came to a crashing stop before them, the horses leaning onto their back legs and crying out. He grabbed the reins of Naevia’s horse, pulling the beast back down to the ground.  Before he could utter a single word, Spartacus spoke out, “What has caused you such haste?”

“Soldiers,” Naevia said, trying to catch her breath. “We came across them while gathering supplies. We over heard them, their intent to sneak into the camp and rob you of life. We were almost out of sight, when the horses alerted them of our presence.” She looked to Agron, “Nasir stayed behind to hold them off, so that we could give you warning.”

Agron only saw red, growling, “Take me there _now_.” He grabbed his armor from the shade of the tent, roughly pulling it on, and strapping it in place. A hand was placed on his shoulder, pulling him backward. He threw it off, turning to face its owner. Crixus.

“Regain yourself brother,” the Gaul growled.

“You would stand between me and my heart,” Agron demanded.

“Do not forget that _you_ once stood between me and mine, but that is not my intent. We must think, before we attack.”

Agron ignored him, walking back to Naevia. “Take me there now,” he repeated.

Her eyes darted to Crixus, “Agron, they-.”

“I’ll find it myself then,” and he stormed away. He didn’t get far though, before a strong hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back. He expected to meet the eyes of Spartacus or Crixus when he turned, but instead saw nothing but air. His eyes fell, to find Saxa glaring at him.

“ _Listen you stupid fuck_ ,” she started angrily, “ _The soldiers saw neither Naevia nor I. They don’t know we escaped! The advantage is ours against them, which you will fucking ruin if we do not think this through_!” He tried to shake her off, but her grip was tight on him. “ _Agron_!” He tried shrugging her off again, and Saxa, clearly losing her patience, slapped him hard across the face. Taking advantage of his shock, she grabbed his chin roughly, pulling his face down to hers. “ _Listen, or I’ll send you to the afterlife myself,”_ she warned dangerously.

 _“I don’t have time to listen,”_ he angrily shouted. “ _If those soldiers hurt him, or-.”_ He stopped himself. He wouldn’t say it. He couldn’t.

Even though few of the others understood their native tongue, Naevia seemed to have picked up on the subject of it. She nudged Saxa out of the way, and placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. “Agron, does your heart yet beat?”

He had no time for riddles. “Naevia, what are you talking about?” He tried pushing her hand away, but Naevia slapped his away with her free hand, holding her other hand more firmly over his heart.

“Does your heart yet beat,” she demanded to know.

He looked to Crixus, wondering how hard the Gaul would hit him if he pushed Naevia away. “Yes, it beats.”

“Then you should know that Nasir is alive. Now use your head! The soldiers did not see me and Saxa, and therefore do now know that we know of their intent to kill Spartacus. They will not expect us when we attack, as long as we think about it, and not go charging in as raging beasts, absent thought or plan!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Saxa pull out one of her daggers, while her hand rested on the hilt of the other. A subtle, but clear threat. Fuck. These two women could easily lead the rebellion, if he or the others fell.

He nodded stiffly, and Naevia stepped back, giving him a firm look as she grabbed the two horses’ reins, and tied them to a nearby post. “Donar, Lugo, water the horses.” Fuck if Naevia wasn’t brilliant, knowing that he could never get past both Donar and Lugo. At least not in one piece.

Spartacus took advantage of the silence, as Agron attempted to regain his thoughts. “How many men Naevia?”

“Seven, but I have no doubt that Nasir sent a few of them to the afterlife as we retreated.” Agron smirked. His wild little dog had bared his teeth. He wondered how harsh the bite had been.

“There intent was to make attempt on Spartacus’ life,” Gannicus asked skeptically.

Naevia nodded. “They were conflicted though. Only one voiced his thoughts against it, but there must have been others who felt the same.”

Spartacus nodded, “Which of you got a better look at the soldiers?” He looked to Agron, who translated his words to Saxa. She nodded, “ _I saw all of there faces clearly_.”

“Saxa knows all of their faces,” he told him.

“I would have her stay here then, should they decide to try and enter the camp.” Agron nodded, looking to Saxa, “ _Stay here. If you see the soldiers, make sure they suffer before you end their lives.”_

She tossed the dagger in her hand, _“With pleasure, brother.”_

Naevia pushed the mounds of fabric off the horses, tossing them into the tent, and pulled herself onto her horse. Agron pulled himself onto the one beside her, as Nemetes brought two more horses forward.

“Crixus, double the guards until we return.” Crixus nodded, not voicing the argument he was so obviously hiding. “Gannicus, come with us.” Spartacus nodded to Naevia, and with a loud cry, she took off, the three of them right behind her as they galloped out of the camp.

They followed her through the Romans decimated camp, until they approached the very edge of it. She slowed her horse to a walk, signaling to the others to keep quiet. She dismounted, and the others followed suit. “Leave the horses here. We will be discovered if they are heard.” They tied them to the nearby trees, and followed her. He could see the tracks the horses had left when they had fled, deep gashes in the dirt.

They moved quietly, but quickly. The others all seemed to know that Agron was barely containing his rage, and would not hesitate to leave the others behind if they moved too slowly. Agron could faintly smell something coppery. Blood. He moved faster, the smell growing stronger as he approached.

Three bodies. One with a slit throat, lying near a tree. A second with a deep gash across his throat and face. A third lying near the boulder, a stab wound in the middle of his chest. Agron grinned. His wild little dog had bitten deep.

“Three of the seven dead,” Gannicus said, the feat impressing him.

Agron moved closer to the third man. A large pool of blood was not far from him, but there was no source of it. He looked closer, seeing drag marks on the forest floor, blood trailing alongside it. “A fourth wounded as well.”

Spartacus looked at the tracks, “And a clear trail to where they hide like frightened rabbits.”

Agron nodded, drawing his sword, the steel sliding silently from its sheath. They crouched low to the ground, Agron leading the way as they followed the trail. The amount of blood grew larger as the trail went on.

Soon he could hear low voices, and he slowly slightly, crouching lower to the ground. Naevia gripped his forearm lightly, pulling him behind one a relatively large boulder, one that could conceal them all with ease. He peered over it, barely sparing the four soldiers a passing glance, before his eyes fell on Nasir.

His lover was bound and gagged, his hands tied above his head. He could see blood dripping from his wrists down his arms, as Nasir tugged at the ropes. He only saw red again, as he tried to get to his feet. Spartacus pushed him against the boulder before he could give them away. “Agron. Nasir is alive. Now calm yourself.” 

Agron growled lowly, his eyes not leaving Nasir. “What do you give pause for?”

“To hear what they say.”

He reluctantly tore his eyes from Nasir, and to the soldiers in the camp. Three were standing by a small fire, a fourth upon the forest floor, a pool of blood under his legs. They were arguing amongst themselves, but Agron cared nothing for what they were saying. His eyes went back to Nasir; his dark eyes darting around the camp. His Syrian was looking for an escape. Agron willed for those dark eyes to meet his, to give Nasir some peace. To know that he was there.

Not seconds later his prayers were answered, as those dark eyes met his. Agron gave a small nod, which Nasir returned, before his eyes left Agrons. Nasir’s eyes turned to the solider’s, as he slowly maneuvered something closer to him with his feet.

Before he could even fathom what Nasir was doing, Nasir, with one last look at the soldiers, kicked a large stone into the woods. It crashed against something, and the soldier’s heads shot up, looking towards the noise. One drew his sword, shouting for other two to follow him. They disappeared into the woods, while the injured soldier remained behind.

“Now,” Agron hissed. He didn’t wait to see if the others would follow him or not, running into the camp behind the solider and slitting his throat. He could hear shouts behind him, but he ignored them, and continued running towards Nasir.

He dropped to his knees in front of Nasir, “Thank the gods you’re alive.” He could just make out the grin Nasir was giving him through the gag. He drew out his dagger to cut the ropes that bound Nasir. The Syrians eyes abruptly left him, trying to form words, but the gag prevented him from understanding the words. He pulled the gag down, and Nasir shouted, “Move,” frantically looking over Agrons shoulder.  Before Agron could turn around, Nasir’s feet pressed against his chest, forcefully shoving him out of the way with a loud grunt.

That was when he saw it. The spear flying past him, and he froze in place, watching it continue on past him.

Towards Nasir. 


	3. Monster Unleashed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron loses control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have lots of Duro feels, and they all came out while writing this.

Agron was frozen in fear, unable to cry out, unable to move, unable to do _anything_. Except watch as the spear hurtled toward his lover.

Nasir cried out as the spear caught him in the side, unfreezing Agron. “No!” He bolted up, back to Nasir’s side, taking his lovers face in his hands, “Nasir! Please by the gods, look at me!”

Nasir opened his eyes, looking over Agrons shoulder, “Behind you!”

The German turned, watching as a soldier charged towards him. The instinct for survival overtook him, as he leapt to his feat, blocking the soldiers blow, and delivering one in return. He growled angrily, as the solider swore loudly at him. “Fucking slaves!”

The rage in Agron swelled, one that he had suppressed months ago, “You fucking shit.” The solider struck at Agron again; Agron ducked underneath it, and thrust his sword into the man stomach. He grabbed the soldier’s wrist, preventing him from bringing his sword down upon Agrons back. He stood, forcing the sword deeper into the soldiers gut. He relished in the fear he could see in the soldiers eyes, relished that he was the one _delivering_ it.

He pulled his sword from the fuck’s chest, exchanging it in favor of the small dagger he carried. This fucking shit had caused Nasir pain. He would deliver in kind. Again and again, he plunged the dagger into the man’s chest, holding him in place by his armor.

“Agron!” He ignored whoever called his voice. “ _Agron, stop this!”_ A firm hand gripped his forearm, preventing him from plunging the blade into the soldier again. He looked to the one tightly gripping his forearm. Naevia. “The man is dead, Agron _.”_ He chuckled maniacally. Donar had once spoken similar words to him. Neither of them understood. He didn’t _care_ if the man was dead. It didn’t matter if he was _dead_. All that _mattered_ was that these Romans had caused him more pain in _two_ years, than he’d ever experienced in his _entire_ life. Pain that he would return.

He lifted his dagger again. “ _AGRON!_ Nasirdeserves your attention better than that fucking corpse!” His hand paused, as his brain slowly came out its rage induced state. Nasir. The red slowly began to fade from his vision. He let go of the dead Roman, the body crumpling to the ground in a heap. Nasir.

Nasir.

He turned back to face his lover. He couldn’t look Nasir in the eye though. He was terrified of what he would see. Would Nasir think him a monster? A beast without a soul? He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, as they had been in the weeks after Duro had fallen. Their eyes didn’t matter though. Only Nasir’s did.

He dropped to his knees again, using the bloody dagger to cut the ropes that still bound Nasir to the tree. “Stay still,” he quietly said, while his hands worked at getting the spear lose from the tree without further injuring Nasir. He could feel the nod that Nasir gave him, and he winced slightly when Agron was finally able to pull the spear away. Agron gently pushed the torn fabric of Nasir’s shirt aside and let out a sigh of relief. The cut was long, but shallow across his side.

“Get me some cloth to bind his wound until we get back tocamp,” he muttered to Naevia. He still couldn’t meet Nasir’s eyes. He could feel his lovers dark eyes focused on him, silently willing Agron to look at him. Agron couldn’t though. He was afraid of what Nasir might see in them. That the uncontrollable anger and rage would still be in them.

Naevia wordlessly handed him a strip of dark cloth, and he nodded his head in gratitude. He could hear the others shuffling around behind him, probably taking what supplies the soldiers had. He focused on binding Nasir’s side, wrapping the cloth around his slim waist several times, and tying a loose knot to hold it in place.

“That should hold until we get back to camp,” he said softly, so that only Nasir could hear him. He felt Nasir take his hand, squeezing it gently.

“Agron, look at me.” Nasir said it softly, but Agron could hear the order in it, and the silent plea for him to listen. He sighed heavily, shutting his eyes tightly, willing the anger and rage to leave them. Letting out a deep breath, he opened his eyes, slowly raising them to meet Nasir’s. His dark eyes were so full of love and understanding, that Agron couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a few moments.

He stood up abruptly, “Let us leave this place behind us.” He realized that Nasir hadn’t let go of his hand, and used it to pull his Syrian up to his feet.

Agron picked up his sword from the ground, sheathing it in one smooth motion. He slowly led the way from the camp, towards where they had left the horses not long ago. He could hear Spartacus murmuring quietly to Naevia and Gannicus.

He and Nasir walked in silence ahead of the others until they reached the horses. Naevia wordlessly climbed up behind Spartacus after he mounted his horse, nodding to Nasir. “Take mine.” Nasir gave her a grateful smile, before slowly pulling himself up onto it. Agron could see the wince of pain that flashed across his face, but he skillfully hid from the others.

Nasir nodded to Spartacus, and they took off at a gallop by unspoken agreement. Agron kept a close eye on Nasir, watching for any sign that his wound was being worsened. After a particularly bad wince of pain that he saw, he grabbed the reins on Nasir’s horse, pulling back on both of theirs, slowing the horses to a walk.

Spartacus noticed, and circled back around to them, but Agron waved him off. He could see the Thracian hesitate for a moment, but then he nodded, and rode off with Gannicus back towards the camp.

“Let us stop by the stream, so I can wash this filth from my hair,” Nasir suggested. Agron nodded, letting Nasir lead the way. He still watched his lover carefully from behind, now noticing the dried blood in his hair. He struggled to rein in his rage once again. Fuck. He’d managed to cage the beast within him for months. Nasir was the only reason he’d caged it in the first place. Nasir had made him _human_ again. At just the thought of losing him, he’d lost control, and allowed the beast to take over again.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He didn’t want Nasir to see the beast in him ever again. He took another one, when the first one didn’t work.

They soon reached the stream, and they dismounted, allowing the horses to graze nearby. Nasir stripped off his vest and shirt, tossing them onto the nearby rocks. He kneeled on the bank of the stream, where a small waterfall supplied it with clear water. Removing the tie that held his long hair back, he dunked his head under the water, and scrubbed at it, washing the blood away.

Agron sat on the rocks, looking at his reflection in the stream. His armor was covered in blood, his face hollow and vacant. He looked away, disgusted at himself. He looked down at his hands, only to realize that they too were covered in blood. He kneeled at the edge of the stream, and began scrubbing furiously at his hands, then his arms, finally removing his armor to rid himself of the last of it.

Even once it was all gone, he kept scrubbing at his skin with his fingers, leaving angry red marks in their wake. He didn’t know what he was trying to get rid of, but he couldn’t stop.  Not until two hands entered his vision, taking his hands, and holding them tightly. Nasir.

He allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, and gently pushed backward until he was sitting against a tree, the bark rough against his skin. He focused his gaze on their intertwined hands, the only thing keeping him in reality.

“Agron,” Nasir spoke softly. Agron didn’t respond, he wasn’t able to even form a coherent thought. “Agron, please.” One hand left his, taking a hold of his chin gently, lifting it so that he met Nasir’s dark eyes. “You don’t need to hide from me Agron.” Agron took a deep breath and Nasir spoke again, “What happened, that drove you into such a rage?”

“It does not matter. All that does, is that they will never hurt you again.”

The grip on his chin tightened slightly, “Agron, why won’t you tell me?” Nasir was worried. He’d never seen Agron look so defeated and helpless.

Agron looked away from him, “Because it belongs in the past, and that is where it should stay.”

Nasir caught a glimpse though, and the pained look in his lovers eyes told him everything. “This has something to with Duro, doesn’t it,” he quietly asked, knowing he was treading on dangerous ground.

Nasir could see the weight Agron carried on his shoulders, one that Agron hadn’t fully carried in months. He let go of Agrons other hand, taking his lovers face gently in both of his. “Agron, please. You once offered to help shoulder weight. I would help shoulder whatever weight you now carry.”

Agron nodded, and Nasir could see the tears forming at the edge of his eyes. Ones that stubbornly refused to fall. “What happened….at the camp. It was……,” he took a breath as if to steady himself, “…it was similar to how Duro died.”

Agron had never told him how Duro had died, and none of the other gladiators could tell him, as Agron had been the sole witness to his little brother’s death.

Nasir took Agrons hands in his again, gently squeezing them. “What happened to Duro,” he asked softly.

“We…we were fighting together. We killed two of Glabers soldiers seconds apart, and I….I thought they had been the last of them. I turned to congratulate him; about to tell him how proud I was off him. He was laughing; I knew he was proud to finally show his worth. Then his face changed, and before I realized what was happening, he……he pushed me out of the way. I heard him scream, as the soldier ran him though with his sword. I didn’t even think. I just reacted, killing the soldier. I caught Duro as he fell; he was so strong, even when I pulled the sword out of him. I was so afraid I’d hurt him more. I _begged_ to the Gods, to _anyone_ , to save him. But they ignored me, leaving my prayers unanswered.”

Tears were flowing freely down Agrons face, and Nasir could see all the defenses he’d built up to contain his anger and sadness come crashing down.

“There was blood everywhere. I could see Duro fighting, trying to stay strong. For me. I was always the one who was strong for him. He was dying, and he was trying to stay strong for _me_. You know what the last thing he said to me was? ‘This time I save you brother.’ I wanted to…..to tell him to shut up, that he would have plenty more chances to save me. But I couldn’t. He knew it’d be a lie, just as much as I did. And I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t let the last thing I said to my brother be a lie. Instead I watched silently, watched the life leave his eyes, felt as his last breath left his body.”

A warm drop hit his knee, and he looked down. It was clear, and he realized that tears were streaming down his face as well.

“When you pushed me out of the way, and watched that spear fly towards you, I was terrified. I…I froze. I’d already had my life destroyed once. The only reason I yet live is because of you. If you were taken from me I…,” he swallowed, “I don’t know what I would have done.”

Nasir gently wiped the tears from Agrons face, holding both of Agrons hands in one of his.

“After Duro died, I was more beast than human. I was a monster. The others saw it, but I didn’t. They often had to pull me off the men I killed, because I wouldn’t stop. I _couldn’t_ stop myself. Donar and Spartacus stopped me most of the time. The smallest thing would set me off, and I would often hit the nearest person. They had to hold me back. Donar had to knock me unconscious several times, because I refused to calm down. I was angry, and I couldn’t control the rage in me.” He let out a dry laugh, “Fuck, I _embraced_ it eventually. It was better than feeling the pain of not having Duro by my side. It was so much easier, to be numb to it. To not feel anything but that rage.”

He looked at Nasir, “Then I met you. You were so different from the others in the villa. They just sat there and accepted what we had done with them. You, though.” Agron’s lips twitched, barely hinting at a smile. “You had this _fire_ in you. One that I’d never seen before. And it….it woke me up. Brought me back to life.” Nasir smiled, wiping away another tear from Agron’s face. “I knew I didn’t deserve you. Not after all I’d done in this life. I deserved nothing, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

Nasir pressed his fingers to Agron’s lips, silencing him. He could understand why Agron blamed himself, but he refused to let Agron think he deserved all this pain. “Agron,” he said firmly, “How can you say that? You’ve done _nothing_ to deserve any of what the gods have done to you. You’re _human_ , Agron. We make the best we can, of what we’re given in this life. What we do with it, is our choice.”

Agron nodded, but Nasir knew his lover did not believe his words. Nasir sighed. Agron rarely regressed back into the sadness he felt from his brother’s death, but whenever he did, all Nasir wanted to do was take him away from the rebellion. To leave behind all the pain and suffering. Perhaps go back to Agrons home in Germania. Maybe then Agron would be able to come to terms with Duro’s death. Maybe then he’d realize that Duro’s death wasn’t his fault.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips softly against Agrons, feeling the tears on Agron’s face mix with his own. It was several agonizing moments before Agron responded to the kiss, moving his lips slightly against Nasir’s. Nasir pressed feather light kisses to Agron’s eyes, brushing the tears that continued to fall away. Agron’s eyes closed, pressing his forehead against Nasir’s. He could feel the deep breaths Agron was taking, trying to hold himself together.

Without breaking the contact between them, Nasir shifted so that he was sitting next to Agron. “Let go Agron,” he said softly, “You don’t need to hold it in.” With an anguished cry, Agron slumped against Nasir’s side, fresh tears streaming down his face. Nasir wrapped his arms around his lover, holding him tightly against him.

Sobs wracked Agrons body, the hot tears dripping onto Nasir’s chest. Agron wrapped his arm around his Syrians waist, afraid to let go for even a moment. It was an unneeded fear, as Nasir had no intent of ever letting go. He hated to see Agron like this, but it was what Agron needed to do.

He’d bottled all of his pain, rage, and sadness up for months, leaving it to fester and grow unseen. If he didn’t let it go, it would once again consume him, and Nasir feared even he would not be able to bring Agron back from it.

Words silently passed between them. Nasir running his hand through Agrons short hair, an offering of support. Agron nuzzled his face to Nasir’s chest, a sign of gratitude. Simple touches, that each had a thousand other meanings, shared between the two.

Nasir didn’t know how long he sat there, but neither did he care. He would stay there for an eternity, if that was what Agron needed. Nasir never let go of Agron, oblivious to the pain on his side, where Agron leaned against it.

Agron went through small bouts of intense sobs and long intervals of tears silently pouring down his face. He drifted into a half-sleep, where images of Duro’s death haunted him. Agron didn’t say anything, but Nasir knew from the pained expression on his face, could feel Agrons lips pressed against his chest, forming silent words, and begging for forgiveness.

Those were the only times Nasir spoke, murmuring quietly, “It’s not real Agron. It’s only a nightmare. He doesn’t blame you.” He was afraid that anything louder would frighten Agron, make the nightmares worse somehow.

Hours passed, and the sun was beginning to set, when Agron’s cries became less pained, and less often. Nasir pulled away slightly, gently taking Agrons face in one of his hands, lifting it slightly so that he could see him. Agron had avoided his gaze for hours, and Nasir could not express his joy when his lovers green eyes slowly rose to meet his, a faint smile on his face. Nasir smiled back.

“Do you wish to return to camp,” he softly asked. Agron nodded slowly, and Nasir helped him get to his feet. He picked up Agrons armor from where he had left it on the forest floor, and threw it on Agrons horse, then  grabbed his vest and shirt from the rocks, pulling them on over his bare chest.

Agron looked up at the sky, the first stars starting to appear in the fading light. “I’m sure the others have wondered where we have been all this time.”

Nasir shrugged his shoulders, standing in front of Agron and looking up as well, “If they had needed us, someone would have been sent to find us. And I would have told them to leave us be, if they valued their lives.”

Agron smirked slightly, taking a hold of Nasir’s belt and tugging him close to his chest. “None will dare to cross you. Not after what you did today. Killing three of those fucking soldiers, wounding a fourth. You bit deep, my wild little dog.” There was much pride in Agrons voice, and Nasir grinned back.

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” he teased lightly.

“You said I cannot call you ‘little man’; you never said anything about ‘wild little dog’,” Agron said simply. He held Nasir tighter against his chest, Nasir tucking his head under his Germans chin. Agron was quiet for a few moments, before he spoke again. Quiet, a barely their whisper. “Gratitude, Nasir. For everything. I cannot put into words what you’ve done for me, can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

Nasir looked up, pressing his lips to Agrons. “I would do _anything_ to help lift a burden you shouldn’t have to carry. If I had the power to turn back the sun, and bring Duro back, I would without hesitation.”

Agron smiled, “He would have liked you. I know he would have. You would have been as brothers.”

“I’ll see him someday. We’ll all be together, once he calls us to join him in the afterlife.”

Agron smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around Nasir’s waist. He pulled away suddenly, dropping to his knees in front of Nasir. “Agron?”

Agrons hand pushed the fabric of Nasirs shirt and vest aside, his eyes inspecting the spear wound. Nasir looked down, surprised to see that a small amount blood had seeped through the makeshift bandage. Agron grumbled something under his breath, and stood up again, taking Nasir’s hand in his.

“We need to get back to camp, so you can get that looked at.” Agron grabbed the reins of Nasir’s horse, and he shook his head, before pulling himself up onto it. Agron got on his, and they nudged the horses on, back towards camp.

“Does it hurt,” Agron asked, concern in his voice.

Nasir shrugged his shoulders. “Of course it hurts. After so many months of training with you gladiators though, one learns to tolerate the pain and push it to the back of their mind.”

Agron chuckled, shaking his head. “By the gods, you are as stubborn as one.”

They exchanged a look, and they both started laughing together. Soon they were at the edge of the camp, the guards letting them pass without a word. They rode close to the temple, not far from the main tent where the leaders of the rebellion made their plans. They dismounted, and handed the reins of the horses to a nearby Rebel, ordering them fed and watered. With a nod, the man led them off.

Agron could see light coming from the main tent, and he knew that Crixus, Gannicus, and Spartacus were once again making plans for the rebellion. Agron knew he was expected to join them, but they’d lived without him for most of the day. They could handle the planning without him until tomorrow.

Taking Nasir’s hand, they made their way into the temple, where their room still was. Agron lit the few candles on the small table, while Nasir shrugged out of his vest and shirt. He sat on the edge of their bed, as Agron absently tossed his armor onto the floor, and rummaged through their few belongings.

He pulled out a few clean cloths, and picked up the jug of water on the floor. He kneeled in front of Nasir, pouring water onto the cloth, and gently began cleaning his wound. Nasir closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting back to when he had suffered his first wound from the Romans. Like then, Agron had had a way of making the pain disappear with his gentle touch.

He smiled, and opened his eyes to find Agron smiling up at him. Their lips met in a soft kiss, and they stayed like that for several minutes, nothing but the soft press of lips between them. Agron was the one who broke it, grinning at Nasir as he picked up a dry clean cloth. He wrapped the cloth around the wound, tying it securely in place.

Agron yawned, and rubbed at his eyes as he stood. His German was exhausted from the day’s events, and Nasir stood up, nudging Agron towards their bed. “Fall to sleep,” he told Agron, as he blew out the candles.

Strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind, “Not without you beside me.” Agron nuzzled his face into Nasir’s neck, pulling him back until they tumbled backwards onto their bed with a laugh. Nasir turned in Agrons arms, lying on his side next to his German. Agron snuggled close to Nasir’s chest, his arms still wrapped tightly around his lover.

 They were quiet for a long time, Nasir absently running his hand through Agrons hair, while Agron laid on his chest, listening to his heart beat steadily. He was quiet for so long, that Nasir thought that he had fallen asleep, until he quietly whispered, “Apologies. I never meant for you to see the monster in me.”

Nasir wrapped both of his arms around Agron, “You are _not_ a monster, nor a beast. You were just afraid to lose one you loved. I will hold you at no fault for that.”

He felt something hot drip onto his chest, and he tightened his hold on Agron. “I was afraid you’d think me less than human. That you’d…….you’d leave. Find one who better deserved you.”

Nasir lifted Agron’s face up, so that he could feel his gaze, even if he could not see it in the dark. “I could never think less of you. You are the only one who deserves me, and that will never change.”

He could feel the smile on Agrons face, and the heat on his face from the blush he could not see. “Sleep now,” he whispered, letting go of Agrons face. Agron nuzzled his face into Nasir’s neck again, and was soon deep asleep in Nasir’s arms, who followed him to his dreams. 


End file.
